


Rules of the Game

by samyazaz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, First Kiss, M/M, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 05:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samyazaz/pseuds/samyazaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lydia who suggests it, waggling the bottle between two fingertips and giving them all an arch look that says <i>I dare you</i>, so of course Stiles is the first to agree, because he's never met a suggestion from Lydia Martin that he could refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules of the Game

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my Trope Bingo free square, using the trope "party games"

It's Lydia who suggests it, waggling the bottle between two fingertips and giving them all an arch look that says _I dare you_ , so of course Stiles is the first to agree, because he's never met a suggestion from Lydia Martin that he could refuse.

The others join in because it's a party and they're teenagers, so why the hell not. Even Jackson joins them, though he snarks and sneers the whole time just to make sure everyone knows he's above such things.

They all settle in a circle on the area rug that the girls insisted Derek buy. Everyone but Derek, who stands in the corner with a book like reading it is some sort of punishment and no less than he deserves. Silence descends over the group as they watch him, waiting, a space in the circle left open for him to fill.

It draws Derek's attention, after a moment. He looks up from the book. When he sees the circle, the bottle, the bit of carpet left vacant for him, his scowl deepens. "No."

"Oh come on," Erica wheedles, grin flashing like a knife. "It's just a game. It'll be fun."

Derek glares at her, then returns to his book without another word. The rest of their cajoling falls on deaf ears, so Lydia clears her throat, tosses her hair over her shoulder, and leans forward to place the bottle on its side in the middle of the circle. She sets it spinning with a flick, then settles back.

When the bottle stops, it's pointing at Allison. Lydia smirks, and Allison's cheeks turn pink when a couple of the boys give catcalls, but she leans forward all the same and meets halfway. Lydia kisses her, chaste but firm enough to leave a smudge of lipstick on Allison's mouth when they part. Allison wipes it away with the back of her hand, blushing but grinning.

When Allison spins, she gets Isaac. Isaac gets Boyd, and they both stare at Erica while they make out. Boyd's spin lands on Erica, and when she takes her turn, the bottle points to Stiles.

Erica slinks across the circle before Stiles can wonder if maybe this isn't the best idea. She takes Stiles's face between her hands, gives him a kiss that's full of teeth and sharp bites. Stiles kisses back because, what the hell, he's a teenage boy and he's not about to turn down a kiss from somebody that hot.

When Erica releases him, she sits back in her spot with a smirk like this is some sort of competition and she knows she just took first place. Stiles spins the bottle, and he's still dazed enough from the aggressive heat of Erica's mouth on his that it takes him a minute to realize why everyone suddenly shuts up and stares at him as though he's just been given a death sentence.

The bottle is pointing straight at the gap they left in their circle, straight at _Derek_ , standing well apart from their game and yet still perfectly in line with the empty seat and the bottle pointing at him.

Derek must notice the sudden silence the same moment Stiles does. He looks up from his book and sees the bottle arrowed straight at him. His expression darkens.

"Whatever," Scott says into the silence, too loud and too earnest. "It's a stupid game anyway. Let's play something else. I brought Twister."

Allison nods quickly, making approving noises, but Stiles is still staring at Derek, at the pinched expression on his face, like he thinks maybe kissing Stiles would be the worst thing to happen to him since the fire. Like just the idea of it personally offends him.

_Fuck that_ , Stiles thinks, and gets to his feet. The chatter breaks off into another tense silence. This time, it's got an air of stunned disbelief.

Derek glares as though he can keep Stiles back through the sheer weight of his sullenness. Stiles ignores it, strides right across the burnt-out living room and into Derek's space. "Sorry, dude," he says. "Rules of the game." And he curves his hand around the back of Derek's neck, leans in, and slides his mouth against Derek's.

He could leave it at a quick peck, retreat and call it enough, but screw that. The gauntlet has been thrown, and Stiles is running with it. He grazes his tongue over Derek's lip, catches it between his teeth and gives it a gentle tug. When Derek's lips shiver apart, Stiles tightens his hand on his nape and licks into his mouth.

Derek's book hits the floor. His hand fists in the back of Stiles's shirt hard enough to make the stitching pop. Behind them, someone mutters, "Holy _crap_ ," and Derek groans like he's inclined to agree.

Stiles eases back, opens his eyes. Derek's expression is wrecked, open and vulnerable and wanting. Stiles's lips curve.

When Derek opens his eyes and finds Stiles grinning — okay, let's be honest, _smirking_ — his brows snap down and his mouth purses. He throws Stiles away from him and vanishes down the hall, leaving Stiles wavering on his feet, scrubbing at his kiss-raw lips and grinning into the back of his hand.

"What a jerk," Allison says, giving him sympathy eyes. Scott chimes in, "Sorry, man, you know he doesn't know how to be around people."

Stiles just shakes his head and settles back into the circle. "All right," he says lightly. "Who's next?"

Five minutes later, they're debating whether to play Twister or Truth and Dare, and whether the werewolves needed a handicap for either game, when Derek storms back into the room just as dramatically as he left it. "Don't I get my turn?" he demands, and stares them all down like he'll eviscerate anyone who says a word of protest.

He grabs the bottle where they'd left it abandoned on the rug and sets it spinning, but before it can come to a stop, he slaps his hand down on it. The bottle is pointing at Stiles, and no one seems the least bit surprised.

Stiles sure as hell isn't. He meets Derek's gaze straight on and says, "Cheaters forfeit their right to a kiss, Derek."

Derek growls, grabs him by the shoulders, and drags him in.

Stiles is too busy kissing him back to protest.


End file.
